


I Wish That You Could Stay

by nextweekforsure



Series: I Won't Forget the Good Times [4]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN, Angst, Dorks in Love, Hockey, Love, M/M, Mentions of Sex, NHL Draft, NHL Trades, No actual sex, Sad with a Happy Ending, mentions of jaromir jagr, mentions of knee injury, mentions of wayne gretzky, neither kent nor jeff is ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-02-20 15:27:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13149528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextweekforsure/pseuds/nextweekforsure
Summary: Kent stood up and circled his arms around Jeff’s hips. “I want to, it’s just that we don’t know about the last round of trades. I don’t think either of us will get traded, but it’s just a risk. If you had to move, I don’t know what I’d do.”“I doubt I’ll get traded, babe. No one has wanted me yet, even after two Stanleys.”Kent rested his forehead on Jeff’s shoulder. “What if I get traded?”“You won’t. You’re our captain, that will not happen.”--or--Kent and Jeff struggle with trades.





	1. 1 // FULL CIRCLE

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank the amazing < a href=”https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelleIzzy/pseuds/LaBelleIzzy” > LaBelleIzzy < /a > for Beta-ing this chapter, and the entire OMGCP NaNoWriMo chat for supporting me! I also want to thank some tumblr folks for reblogging the links to my fics! Y'all know who you are. Thank you so much! Chapter title is from "Full Circle" by Movements. Work title is from "Talk in Your Sleep" by Moose Blood

His ribs hurt. His head hurt. His chest hurt.

 

Kent’s first day back on the ice was not the most pleasant thing. It may have been better if he would have taken the painkillers prescribed to him, but Kent was scared of getting addicted to them. Plus, if he started to take them again, he would have to stop drinking, and that would _not_  be happening.

 

He was only a bit slower than he had been before he pinched a nerve and broken a rib, but it was still terrifying. What if his muscles had atrophied? The burning sensations in both of his ankles seemed like good indicators of an impairment. Fortunately, his shot was still as good as it used to be. The rest of him would have to get back into fighting shape.

 

His apartment felt empty. Jeff had forced him to get rid of everything he didn’t use, because over the course of his injury, Kent’s condo had gotten messy. Purrs arched her back up against Kent’s leg, stretching in a way that made her tail twitch. Kent snickered at the feeling of it against his leg. He walked quietly across the wooden floor, just in case Swoops had not woken up yet.

 

When Kent got back to his bedroom, no one was there, so he proceeded to flop on the bed, sighing as he hit the foam matress face-first. He turned over moments after, catching a glimpse of the mess that his room was. Wine and beer bottles were everywhere -- Jeff had chirped him about that the night before. He should clean, but he was sore. He just wanted to sleep.

 

“Where were you?”

 

Kent sat up like a bullet. “Jesus fuck, man. Make some noise next time.”

 

Jeff was wearing only a deep red towel, which was riding low on his hips. Kent tried (and failed) not to stare. “Kent. Where were you?” Kent motioned Jeff to come over, grabbing his hand once he did. He kissed it, which made Swoops pull it away. “No, where did you go? It’s not a big deal, I just want to know.”

 

Kent sighed, placing his hands on Jeff’s hips. “I was at the rink.”

 

“Doctor told you not to go alone. You need a spotter.” Jeff looked calm, but the wavering in his voice told Kent otherwise. “Was anyone there with you?”

 

The blond let his thumbs brush lightly over skin and towel. “Nope. Nothing happened.”

 

“Thank God for that, but seriously, you have to be more careful. One of these days, you won’t listen and you’ll get hurt. I don’t want that to happen.” Jeff sat down on the bed, forcing Kent’s grip to break. “Next time, tell me when you’re going. I’ll go with you. If you don’t want me there, I’ll just skate around you. I need to be there, though. You could take someone else, too. Grab a rookie or something. I don’t care, just don’t be alone on the ice until you’re more healed.”

 

Kent stretched upwards to press a kiss behind Jeff’s ear. When his friend shuddered and moved, the blond was given a better access point, and alternated between kissing and sucking, trying to leave a mark.

 

“Fuck, Kent. Seriously? It’s like 9 am. Not--” he cut himself off as a whine forced itself out of his throat. “Kens. We were having a serious conversation.”

 

Kent stopped his assault. “Okay, continue, then.”

 

Jeff tried to start, but only managed a squeak as Kent’s fingers dipped under the towel. He pushed the blond off lightly. “You always try and taunt me with sex when we need to talk!”

 

“I’m good at sex. I’m not good at talking.”

 

“I mean, neither of those statements are wrong, but, we still really need to talk.” Jeff stood up, tightening the towel on his waist. “Can I speak now?” When Kent nodded, he continued. “I have something important to ask you.”

 

“I’m not ready to get married, idiot. It’s only been a couple weeks.”

 

Jeff let out a subdued chuckle. “I’m not ready for that either.”

 

“Good, because if you proposed to me half naked, I would definitely say no.” Kent thought. “Nevermind. You’re hot, it wouldn’t change much.”

 

“No, what I wanted to ask was if you wanted to move in with me. Or me move in with you. Either works, I just want to live with you.”

 

“Uh--”

 

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

 

Kent stood up and circled his arms around Jeff’s hips. “I want to, it’s just that we don’t know about the last round of trades. I don’t think either of us will get traded, but it’s just a risk. If you had to move, I don’t know what I’d do.”

 

“I doubt I’ll get traded, babe. No one has wanted me yet, even after two Stanleys.”

 

Kent rested his forehead on Jeff’s shoulder. “What if I get traded?”

 

“You won’t. You’re our captain, that will not happen.”

 

“It happened to Jagr, even Gretzky, twice. I’m not a legend like those two, but, I mean, it could still happen.”

 

“Hey, look at me.” Kent buried himself even deeper into the crook of Jeff’s neck. “Baby, please.” The blond’s face was gently lifted until they were making eye contact once again. “If something happens, we’ll figure things out.”

 

“Okay,” he sighed. “Maybe you bring some of your things here for a while? You practically live here already.”

 

“Okay,” Jeff responded enthusiastically. “I love you.”

 

Kent kissed him sweet and deep in reply. Swoops was caught off guard, but retaliated quickly.

 

They eventually broke apart, lips red and swollen. “Didn’t we have something to do?” Jeff asked, running his hands down his boyfriend’s body suggestively. “Felt pretty important to you before.”

 

“I think that you may have missed your chance on that, big boy. Maybe next time.”

 

“Come on, you’ve gotten me all worked up now!” Jeff complained, pressing butterfly kisses to Kent’s neck. “Can’t kiss me like that and leave me hanging.”

 

“I can, though. It’s payback,” Kent said, giggling at the feeling of the lips and scruff on his neck. “I had to look at you in just that towel, glistening from your shower. You can chill.”

 

Jeff let it go, saying that he had to go to the bathroom. Kent snickered at his lie.

 

That same night, they had a gala to attend. Kent knew it was something about poverty, so he would give them money, they would be happy, and he would look good. The blond drank a lot, while Jeff drank nothing. He had driven the two of them to the hotel where the benefit was being held, and he was a very responsible designated driver. Kent was able to recall one thing, which was that Swoops was a menace. They had a strict no touching rule when in public, but Jeff broke it the entire night, from light caresses to kisses in the bathroom when they were sure no one else was coming. It was a fun game for Kent to try and guess his boyfriend’s signals, to try and predict the next attack.

 

It was helpful to have someone that he trusted around, because when Kent got drunk, he danced on tables, bars, or anywhere that he could find space. With Jeff there, Kent could almost start, but a firm grip on his hips forced him to forget what he was going to do.

 

Right when they got home, Kent stripped out of his suit and fell onto the bed, tired from all of the festivities and the alcohol. Before he drifted off, he heard Jeff snicker, and felt the bed sink.

 

“Night, Kens.” Jeff kissed his head lightly, which prompted Kent to grab the navy tie and pull his boyfriend into a deep kiss.

 

“Night babe. Thanks for keeping me safe.”

 

Kent swore that he could feel the heat from Jeff’s blush.

 

\----- 

 

He woke up to a hand in his hair, stroking and pulling lightly.

 

“What?” Kent asked with a hoarse voice, wincing at the headache the sound caused.

 

Jeff kissed down his neck. “Can we?”

 

“Baby, I’m hungover,” Kent protested as his boyfriend continued his assault. “I want to, but I’m hurting.”

 

“I could make you feel better. You wouldn’t have to do anything.”

 

“Damn, what’s with you today?” Jeff generally wasn’t so forthcoming. Kent was generally the initiator of their intimate activities. “You have a fun dream?” Kent’s hand shifted up to Jeff’s hair, lightly twisting and tugging.

 

“No, I just really love you. Want to show you how much.”

 

“You don’t have to prove it like that.” Kent sighed as a mark was sucked on his neck. “I love you even when we’re not having sex, too.”

 

“Fine, I’ll let you get back to sleep. Wish I could kiss you, though.”

 

“You scared of my morning breath?” Kent asked, giggling. “How terrifying is it?”

 

“It’s bad, man. Real bad.” Jeff kissed his head, and stood up. “Love you, sleep well.”

 

“Let me guess, going to the bathroom?”

 

“Babe, don’t call me out like this.” Kent laughed as he walked out of the room.

 

“Love you too!”

 

Kent’s routine did not change much day to day. He was on the ice every single day, most of the time with Jeff, other times with rookies, or Moyer. Whoever he could get a hold of would come with him, and he would buy them dinner after. His feet were as fast as ever, but his torso was reluctant to move how he wanted it to.  Kent attributed that to having not exercised in almost a month.

 

When he was at home, Jeff was with him. The two were rarely apart, glued to one another’s side. If Jeff was on the couch, Kent was on top of him. If Kent was in bed, Jeff would be glued to his side, legs tangled together in a way that was incredibly uncomfortable, but welcome. When one was cooking, the other was sitting at the table, making idle, sappy talk.

 

Kent didn’t know if he was happy, or if he was in love, or both. His world just seemed a bit brighter whenever Swoops was around.


	2. 2// THIS COULD HAVE BEEN SO DIFFERENT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, since you don’t know, I guess I’ll tell you.” His coach took a deep breath. “We got a 2nd round pick in next year’s go, and a 1st pick goalie, who should be here soon. I’m meeting with him later today.”
> 
> “Yeah, yeah, but in exchange for who?”
> 
> “Kent--”
> 
> The blond was scared, but he expressed it more as anger as he interrupted his coach. “Who?”
> 
> “You.”
> 
> \--or--
> 
> Kent hears the news of the recent trades, and he and Jeff try to deal with it in a functional way.

It only took a few days for Kent to be cleared to practice alone. The trainer and his orthopedic specialist both came to the same consensus that he would be okay, and a fall would not set him back at all, so he spent most of his time alone, on the ice. Kent wasn’t trying to force himself into solitude, but he got more done when he could work by himself, forcing his shot back into its’ most accurate form, moving his feet like he remembered, and moving the puck like he used to. He could work with the rest of the team when practice was allowed to start. 

 

Kent liked Tuesdays at the practice rink. The youth rec leagues had late practice, and it was blocked off for the Aces in the morning, but most of the team preferred their game rink, so he was generally all alone. The solitude was nice, because he could be as loud as he wanted, screaming when he missed, grunting as he shot, and crashing into the boards roughly. 

 

The sounds that he made gave him space to think. 

 

Kent felt like he was being watched, so he swiveled his head around to check for anyone. His coach was looking down at his phone, but the expression on his face was too blurry to be seen from the distance between them -- Kent wasn’t wearing his glasses. His coach waved him over, so Kent skated towards the bench. 

 

As Kent got closer, he could make out the expression on his coach’s face, which was sad, but also distressed. “Everything okay?”

 

“How you holding up, kid?”  _ Kid? _ Kent was not used to being called kid. His coach was not that old -- maybe in his forties -- he did not call Kent  _ kid. _

 

“Uh, I’m fine. No pain.”

 

“Not talking about your injury.”

 

Kent raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about, then?”

 

“The trades that happened this morning.” His coach seemed extremely concerned about the fact that Kent had no idea what he was talking about. “You okay?”

 

“Wh-what trades?” Kent’s voice was starting to shake. “I thought those were over?” If Kent’s coach was worried about him, that could mean two things -- Jack was being traded to the Aces, or Swoops was traded away. “Who got traded?”

 

“Well, since you don’t know, I guess I’ll tell you.” His coach took a deep breath. “We got a 2nd round pick in next year’s go, and a 1st pick goalie, who should be here soon. I’m meeting with him later today.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, but in exchange for who?”

 

“Kent--”

 

The blond was scared, but he expressed it more as anger as he interrupted his coach. “Who?”

 

“You.”

 

Kent did not expect that. He expected it to be Swoops, or even Moyer, because those two would be the ones that would draw the biggest reaction out of him. 

 

He went through the five stages of grief in seconds before he responded. 

 

“Me?” His coach just nodded. “Where?”

 

“I feel like you  _ know _ —“

 

“Where?” Kent shouted, breath coming through his lips quickly and loudly. 

 

“Providence.”

 

“No, no, didn’t L.A. want me? I think they wanted me there.”

 

“Kent, it was a smart choice—“

 

“Fuck you!”

 

“Parson—“

 

“Fuck. You.”

 

“You need to understand—“

 

“Shut your fucking mouth and leave. I’m not going to Providence. I’m the captain of the Aces.” His coach started to interject, but Kent kept talking. “No, no. You don’t get to talk. Why the hell did you think that trading me would be a good plan? You know I  _ hate  _ saying this, but this team needs me. We hold each other together. We have a delicate system and we’re a great team, so we—“

 

“God damn, let me talk. You are going to Providence, or you’re retiring. Not my choice to make. That’s yours. They wanted you badly enough to give the Aces their picks, and the next draft looks very good. Plus, Kent, you’re getting old. You’re going to be thirty in a few years, and I know that that isn’t old, but you’ve passed your playing prime. We haven’t won the cup, or the conference finals in almost three years, something isn’t working. Maybe it’s the composition. Maybe it’s you.”

 

“You’re saying that I’m the reason that we haven’t won a cup recently?”

 

“You always say it is.”

 

“Fuck you.” Kent left where he was leaning and skated to the other side of the rink. As an afterthought, he shouted back. “You’re our coach. It’s your fault more than it is mine. Suck up your ego.”

 

When Kent didn’t know what to feel, he got snarky. He also got destructive. He wanted to hit something, break something, or break himself. He needed to  _ not  _ do that. It’d be unprofessional. The reality of the trade had not sunken in completely yet, so he didn’t know what would happen when it did. He took off his skates, sheathed the blades, and put them in his black and red duffel. Soon it’d be blue, white, and yellow. He didn’t like that. His practice helmet and pads were also placed inside, the bag was zipped, and he was out the door, leaving through the back entrance to get to his car. 

 

Once he sat down in the driver’s seat, everything flowed out of him. His anger, sadness, and frustration came out in tears and screams. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. All Kent could do was sit there, cry, and shake. 

 

Before he noticed, he reached to grab his phone that he had thrown on the seat next to him. He started to call Jeff, but hung up on the second ring.

 

He wanted someone to talk to and to get help from, but couldn’t bring himself to ask for it. 

 

He started up his car, sighing as the engine revved to life. His phone connected automatically via Bluetooth, and started playing the mix he was listening to on his drive over. Kesha was too happy for him. He needed something sadder. 

 

He settled on his sad mix. 

 

It was interrupted by Britney Spears’ “Oops I Did it Again,” which was Jeff’s ringtone. It played over the car’s speakers. He picked up.

 

A groggy Jeff started to speak, voice cracking as he had been asleep. “Hey, babe, what’s up?”

 

Kent had guessed that Jeff would still be asleep. They had had a late night the night before, not because they had things to do, but because they were very bad at time management. “It was just a butt dial, sorry, Swoops.” Kent was trying his best to make his voice sound normal, like he hadn’t just been bawling his eyes out and screaming.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong? You don’t sound so good.”

 

Shit. He had caught on. “Absolutely nothing. All good, all good in the hood.”

 

Kent heard Jeff sigh. “Are you okay to drive home, or should I come get you? Cause I will come get you.”

 

The blond let out a stifled sob. “Can you come get me? I don’t trust myself.”

 

“I’ll be there in ten.”

 

He was there in five, in his truck, wearing only his boxers. No shoes, no shirt, no pants, and no dignity. The small dark marks Kent had left on his skin the night before looked good on him, but made Kent sad. He would have to leave Jeff behind when he moved. 

 

The truck was left in park when Swoops spoke. “So, I heard.”

 

Kent waved a hand. “Don’t talk about it.”

 

“We  _ will _ talk about it,” Jeff added. “Just when we get home.”

 

Kent shrugged, and Jeff put the truck in drive, speeding through the parking lot like he tended to do. Kent could tell that he was trying to avoid speeding on the streets, but he was having trouble restraining himself. He looked anxious. Kent hated it. 

 

Even with Swoops driving in a very controlled, slow fashion, they still got back to the condos fairly quickly. 

 

The beep that the truck made as Jeff locked it was uncharacteristic of the vehicle, because of its’ size. The noise was puny. Kent had always loved that about the big red Ford. 

 

Kent walked to the door of their condo slowly. Jeff walked quickly. 

 

“What’s up with you?” Kent asked, confused as to why Jeff was so frantic. He was usually fairly calm. “You seem stressed, are you okay?”

 

“No, I’m not okay!” Jeff started, walking into the living room, back turned to Kent. He sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands. “I love you. I don’t want you to leave, and I just got you. Now you’re going to be gone, and I don’t know how to deal with this.”

 

“I’m not going to break up with you, man. I love you.”

 

“You’re going to be almost 3,000 miles away, Kent, I-I can’t deal with that. I’m sorry.”

 

Kent had been walking over to the couch, but stopped. Jeff looked up from his hands with grief in his eyes, which were usually so bright, but looked dull. “Are you breaking up with me?”

 

“Of course not—“

 

“Then what are you trying to say?”

 

“That it’s going to be hard, I mean I’m doing something that I really  _ can’t  _ do. I’m going to do it for you, because I love you, but it’s going to be hard.”

 

Kent was confused. “What are you doing?”

 

“Long distance?” Kent sat down on Jeff’s lap, kissing his cheek once he was settled. “Hi. How are you taking all of this? It’s rough for me, must be so much worse for you.”

 

“Honestly, much better now that I know you’re staying with me. I was really scared that you’d leave me, I mean, we’re going to be enemies on the ice.”

 

“That’d be a stupid reason to break up with someone that you love.”

 

“It’s just that I love you,” Kent said. “You know this. I don’t want to leave, but I can leave or retire, and if I retire, I have no clue what I would do with myself.”

 

“I understand that.” Jeff extended his leg, shifting Kent on his lap slightly. “Babe, can you grab me an ice pack?” 

 

“Knee again?”

 

“Yeah,” he said as he twisted his leg left and right. “Don’t know why it’s bothering me so much. Probably slept on it wrong.”

 

Kent got up and headed to the refrigerator. He grabbed the ice pack out of the french door freezer, kneading it so that it was a bit more malleable. Jeff had taken an old brace and outfitted the middle, between metal and the fabric that covered his knee with pieces of a gel ice pack made small enough to fit in the brace. It was pretty smart. 

 

“What’d you do to this in the first place, dude? It’s been bothering you since we started playing together.” Kent knew that he didn’t complain about it much, but some games and practices, Jeff could barely move, obviously in pain. “You gone to the doctor yet?”

 

“Uh, I did go to the doctor, but that was last year.”

 

“What’d she say?”

 

“Baby, you don’t want to know. Trust me.”

 

Kent straddled his boyfriend’s hips, sitting on his lap again and pecking his lips. “Tell me.”

 

“You trying to turn me on, or something?”

 

Kent laughed. “Nah, man. Just trying to get you to talk.” He ground his hips down, making Jeff’s breath hitch. “You tend to give me what I want when you’re horny.”

 

“You’re an asshole.”

 

Kent kissed his neck, lingering on marks left there from the night before. “Mm-hmm. Your asshole.”

 

Instead of speaking, Jeff captured Kent’s lips in a deep kiss. 

 

Kent broke off after a few seconds. “Dude, tell me what happened to your knee! Don’t be a horndog.”

 

“You’re the horndog!” Jeff interjected. “Horn. Dog,” he poked Kent’s chest in between each syllable. “But, I mean, you have to deal with me every day anyways, so I guess I’ll tell you. You’re not allowed to get mad.” His eyes shut for a second as he took a breath. “Basically, an injury during high school to my knee stretched out my ligaments, like ACL, MCL, PCL, you know the ones. My kneecap is not super secure, so I’m losing the articular cartilage between my femur, kneecap, and tibia.”

 

“Oh, wow. Why haven’t you gotten surgery?”

 

“I would’ve been out for a season,” Jeff said. “Even if I had it over the summer, the recovery time is so long, because I have to have bands on all of the ligaments, and I can’t move until they’re stretched enough, or whatever.”

 

Kent ran a hand through Jeff’s hair. “Damn, dude. I’m sorry you’re going through that. Sounds fucking horrible.”

 

“I mean, I guess you learn to deal with it. I certainly have.” He was quiet for a few seconds. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

 

Kent blushed, whispering a quiet “shut up.”

 

“Baby, I’m serious,” Jeff said with a loving expression on his face. “You’re so great, and I love you so much, I can’t even explain it.”

 

“Seriously, man, you drunk or something?”

 

“No, I just don’t know how much longer you’ll be in Vegas, and I need to tell you every chance I get.” As an afterthought, he remarked “you’re so red. Stop being so beautiful.”

 

Kent’s mind and heart wanted him to just start screaming. “Shut up, you’re the worst.”

 

Jeff shrugged in response, kissing Kent’s cheek, then moving to his lips. This kiss was light and feathery, obviously restrained. Kent bit Jeff’s bottom lip, pulling on it slightly, egging him to go faster. He did, kissing deeper. Kent pulled back for a breath, and Jeff let out a whine, closing the distance in between them once again. Kent ground down on the growing bulge in his boyfriend’s underwear as they kissed, silencing the moan that came with it. 

 

They both needed air, and Kent took the opportunity of the space to push Jeff down until he was flat on his back. 

 

“Kens, I love this and all, but if you keep going, I will end up hating you.”

 

Kent laughed, licking his lips. “Why?”

 

“Because I want to get you off. I feel like I never reciprocate for you.”

 

“Jeff,” Kent started, “you may not reciprocate very often, but when you do, you’re so good. Plus, not really in the mood to receive right now. Last night was enough of that.”

 

“Seriously? You spent ten minutes riling me up to not be in the mood?” 

 

“I’m still a bit, you know, frazzled about the whole trade. I thought you’d help me forget.”

 

“Oh. Okay. Still, kiss me?” 

 

The kiss naturally ended after they both knew it wasn’t going anywhere, and Jeff was the first to speak. “I’m going to miss you so so much.” 

 

“Don’t—“

 

“I need to. I love you. I need you.”

 

Kent made a space for himself between Jeff and the back of the couch. “I need you too. What are we going to do?”

 

Jeff didn’t know the answer, so he didn’t respond. “When do you have to be up there?”

 

“I don’t know,” Kent responded. “Haven’t talked to the coach yet. Need to start looking for somewhere to live, though.” Jeff didn’t respond, so the blond looked up to see his face. “Babe, please don’t cry. If you cry, I’m going to cry, and I don’t know if my skin can take all the salt.”

 

“I’m not crying,” Swoops said, definitely crying. “You’re crying.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“Don’t leave.” Jeff sounded dead serious. “I mean, you have to, but like, don’t.”

 

Kent’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and Jeff fished it out from between them, handing it back before he read anything. 

 

_ Text from COACH LAFLEUR: meet PVD coach at Starbucks on Main and 5th today at 3:30 _

 

Kent sighed as he shoved the phone in Swoops’s face to let him read, to which he said, “oh, damn.” 

 

Kent checked the clock. “It’s 2:40. I need to get ready. Can you drop me at my car?”

 

“I’ll go with you,” Swoops said. 

 

“No.”

 

“Alright, car it is.” The two split to get ready to go. When they reconvened, Jeff was wearing actual clothes, and Kent was in a dress shirt and black jeans. 

 

“Ready?” Kent asked, discomfort in what was to come evident in his voice. Jeff’s eyes were trained on the blond’s chest. “Hey, dude,” Kent snapped in his face, “what’s up?”

 

“That shirt fits you so well.”

 

“Let me remind you of something, you see me naked on like... a daily basis.”

 

“It’s different when you’re wearing clothes,” Jeff muttered. 

 

Kent laughed as they walked to the truck, and turned on the radio once it was started. 

 

“How are you so happy?” Jeff asked, eyes trained to the road. “You do know what’s about to happen, right?”

 

Kent put his feet up on the dashboard. “Look, I know what’s happening, and I want to savor the last few days we have together.”

 

Jeff tapped his leg, signaling to Kent that he should move his feet. “I can try to do that, too.” Kent grabbed his hand that was sitting on the console. “Yeah, yeah.” Jeff’s voice had a slight lift to it, but Kent could tell that he, too, was having trouble accepting what was happening. 

 

Kent was dropped off, and Jeff said that he had to run some errands. When asked what the errands were, Jeff only responded with “you’ll see.”

 

—————

 

Nervousness was not an adequate description of the feeling that Kent felt as he entered the Starbucks off of Main. He was about to formally meet his new coach. 

 

He panned the room for older, graying, Canadian looking men in suits, because most NHL coaches tended to fit that bill. His stereotype was accurate, as the coach waved him over quickly. 

 

“I’m Kevin Marceau, nice to meet you.” Marceau held out his hand for Kent to shake. “This is Georgia Martin, our General Manager. She’ll be in charge of most of what you do.” Georgia also shook Kent’s hand, but did not say anything, so Marceau kept talking. “Alright, you’re probably wondering why we gave the Aces our best picks for next year, and our freshly drafted goalie.”

 

“I am wondering that,” Kent said with the strongest voice he could muster.

 

“Sometimes we like to go back and watch old film on some of our players to learn more about their playing styles, so when we got Jack Zimmermann, we watched some of his tape from his time in the Q. Obviously, you were there.”

 

“Hmm, I don’t think I was there, that must’ve been a different guy.” Kent smiled as he spoke.

 

“This is serious,” Georgia interjected. “Act like a professional.”

 

Kent recomposed himself. The coach continued. “You two were an amazing team. Quick, smart, and deliberate, which is what we need to take home the cup. Pretty easy choice for the Falconers coaching staff. Any other questions on that?”

 

Kent shook his head.

 

“Good. Let’s talk salary and get it over with. We’re going to match your current pay, and add 20,000 on top of that, because this move is probably hard for you. Do you want to argue about that?”

 

Kent couldn't care less. He had millions in savings — money management was easy for him. He shook his head again. 

 

“You’re easy. Expectations for the Falconers are about the same as the ones that the Aces have, because they’re standard NHL code. Work hard, don’t die, the regular bullshit, but we also have a no discrimination based on race, sexual orientation, origin, religion, whatever. Just don’t be a dick and you’ll be fine. There are harsh consequences for stepping out of line on this. Like I said. Be cool about everyone on the team.”

 

“Easy enough. Do you have any out guys on the team?” Kent asked.

 

“Not ours to say. They’ll tell you if they want to,” Georgia responded. “Why, got a problem with that?”

 

“Not at all.”  _ I’m gay, I hope it’s not a problem _ , Kent thought. Gladly, he had enough common sense to keep that one internal. 

 

“Salary, rules, hit all that,” Marceau muttered. “Ah, yes. You have to be in Providence, at the rink, at 9 in the morning on Monday.”

 

_ Monday.  _

 

5 days to say goodbye. 5 days to find somewhere to live. 5 days to work up to the fact that he was going to be working with Jack.

 

“Alright,” Kent said with a sigh. “Thanks.”

 

“It was great meeting you,” Georgia said, shaking Kent’s hand. Marceau followed suit. “Looking forward to seeing you in blue on Monday.”

 

“Me too,” came the blond’s shaky reply. “Thank you.”

 

The two left, leaving Kent at the table alone, as he sent a quick text to Jeff, saying  _ done, coming home.  _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: everything go ok? _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: yeah it’s fine. Have to be there on Monday tho which sucks  _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: we’ll figure it out _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: idk how but we will _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: ru home _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: no have one more thing to do won’t be long _

 

Kent got into his car, put on his car jams playlist, and drove home.

 

When he arrived, he unlocked the door, picked up Purrs, and sat down on the couch. Coddling her close to his chest.  She made soft coos as she was pet, which calmed Kent down significantly, lulling him into a soft sleep. 

 

Jeff’s entry woke him up. With groggy, half-lidded eyes, Kent studied the bags occupying his arms. A few had the blue and yellow Walmart logo, others said Target, and one was unmarked. Jeff waved, arm not extending very far because of the decreased range of motion the bags gave him. He groaned and went to set them in the kitchen. 

 

After slams of refrigerator and freezer doors, a couple deep shouts of  _ fuck _ , and a lot of sighing, Jeff came back out, hair disheveled.

 

“What happened to you?” Kent asked, snickering, mainly at the expression on his boyfriend’s face. “Lose a fight with the refrigerator?”

 

Jeff moved closer to the couch, causing Kit to run away with a growling  _ mrrrrrow.  _ Since the spot had been opened, Swoops sat down on Kent’s lap. “Yeah. Just a long day.” He pressed kisses to Kent’s neck. “How are you?”

 

Kent hummed and pulled Swoops up to catch his lips. “Better now that you’re here,” he said once they broke away. “Where have you been?” Jeff kissed him again, eyes closed.

 

“Target, Walmart, some other places. Getting things done, you know.” The brunet ran his fingers through Kent’s hair, brown eyes opening to meet gray ones. “I missed you. How’d the meeting go? I heard you say five days, please tell me you meant to say fifty. Or forever.”

 

Kent pressed his face to Jeff’s shoulder. “No, it’s five, man. I wish that it was fifty, or never. But, the meeting went okay, I guess? Their GM is kind of a killer. She seems cool. They have some really lax rules, seems pretty okay. Even have one against homophobia.”

 

“Dang. Seems like a better gig than here, don’t have to hide as much.” Jeff took a breath, then continued. “I love the Aces to death, but so many of them are assholes. Least I have you to watch my back.”

 

“For five more days,” Kent said with a sigh.

 

“Don’t remind me, all right? It fucking hurts.”

 

Kent sat up a bit straighter. “It hurts you? Come on, man.”

 

“What did I do?” Jeff asked. “I’d rather resolve this now than let it fester.” Jeff climbed off of Kent’s lap and moved to the center of the couch, knowing that he might need some space to vent.

 

“You didn’t do anything. I just...” he trailed off. Jeff reached out for Kent’s hand. “I really don’t want to go.”

 

Swoops squeezed the hand he was holding. “Then, don’t go. If it’s hurting you so much, just stay.”

 

“I would have to retire,” the blond forced out quickly.

 

Jeff eased himself over closer to Kent. “That’s a choice that you have to make. No one else can do it for you.”

 

“You’re right, but I want to do both.”

 

“I’m sorry--”

 

“Not your fault.” Kent leaned back against the couch, stretching his arm to cover Swoops’s shoulders.

 

“I mean, it kind of is. If I hadn’t been here--”

 

“Jeff. I love you, and I fucking mean it. Without you, I don’t know where I would be.”

 

Jeff rolled his eyes. “You’d be in the same spot, just probably with a different boyfriend.”

 

“Are we going through this now?” Kent asked, turning to face Swoops. “Damn it, man. You don’t get it, do you?”

 

“Get what?”

 

“You have been so important to me for so long. Without you, fuck, man, I don’t think that I would have any friends on the Aces. No one else ever reached out to me like you did. This is before all of the hook-ups and shit, before you knew anything about me. You probably knew that I was the kid rumored to be dating Jack Zimmermann, and that’s about it.” 

 

“I mean, I knew you were cute,” Jeff started. Kent blushed. “Still know that you’re cute.”

 

“Stop it, asshole. I’m trying to get my feelings out.”

 

“Me too. I love you, that’s what I feel.”

 

“Where was I? Oh yeah, so you basically saved my entire ass our rookie year, because that was probably the worst year of my life. Also, sappy shit aside, you’re the only cool dude on the Aces. You’re not an asshole--”

 

“Parser, you literally just called me an asshole, you--”

 

“Shut up!” Kent said, laughing. When he opened his eyes again, Swoops was giving him a strange glance, eyes half lidded, and corners of mouth pointed up. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

“‘Cause you’re really hot.”

 

He rolled his eyes at the brunet, who shrugged. “Why are you _ really _ looking at me like that?”

 

“Because I’m in love with you, you fucker. Goddamn, man,” Jeff said, cheeks going red. “Can’t take things at face value at all, eh?”

 

“Not with you. You always have some deep bullshit behind everything that you say.”

 

“Don’t have to read between the lines on I love you, babe.” Kent rolled his eyes, then visibly tensed up. “Kens, you don’t have to read between the lines, there. I really love you.”

 

“I know, it’s just hard, because, you know...” he trailed off.

 

Jeff pulled him into a hug. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know, because I’m not you, but, yeah, I feel for you.”

 

Kent wanted to stay there forever, so he continued his conversation buried in his boyfriend’s chest. “Seriously, where were you when you were out, though? You were gone for so long. Everything okay?”

 

“Well,” Jeff started. “You know I went shopping, uh, then my knee locked.” Kent’s jaw dropped with the split second implications. “Nothing really bad, just had to get a shot in it to reduce the swelling.”

 

“Is it getting worse?” the blond asked, lightly stroking his boyfriend’s leg.

 

“I mean, yeah. It hasn’t gotten better, and it probably won’t.” He circled his arm around Kent’s shoulders, hugging him to his side. “Surgery will be the only way to fix it, I just don’t know when. I go to the doctor again on Monday.”

 

“What about hockey?” Kent asked. "You're not going to have to quit, right?"

 

“I don’t know. She’ll tell me. Just don’t worry about it, ok? Whatever happens is going to happen. Can’t change it, eh?” Jeff’s voice lifted at the end of his sentence, shrouding his statements in false optimism. “Forget about it for now, okay.” He carded his fingers through blond hair. “Maybe I can take your mind off of everything? Maybe?”

 

“Oh yeah?” Kent stretched out of where he was sitting. “How?”

 

Jeff pinned him down, back flat on the couch. “I have my ways.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsty!!!!! Happy New Year!! 2018 better come through!!
> 
> As always, leave kudos and comments saying what you liked and what you didn't! Always looking to improve!
> 
> Tumblr: nextweekforsure  
> 8tracks: kennyparse


	3. 3 // YOU LEFT IN THE WORST WAY

Saying goodbye in such a short amount of time proved harder than Kent had previously imagined. Since he had to leave early Friday morning to make sure that he would make it to his new apartment for one sleep before Monday practice, he only had three days to say goodbye to everyone that he needed to let go. He had even less time to say goodbye to everyone that he wanted to keep in his life. 

 

On Wednesday, Kent spent most of his day at the Children’s Hospital of Nevada, visiting the kids that he had formed bonds with at PR events. He brought them each a small gift that he thought they would like. He tried to explain the NHL trades to the children, but the concept was hard for them to grasp -- they just thought that he was leaving through his own volition. It pained Kent to look back through the open doorways after he had walked out for the last time and see their sad faces, because he knew that he would not be a part of their lives anymore. He would be a distant memory, brought up to the children only when a picture resurfaced, and to some of them, he would disappear completely.

 

After he had finished with that, the blond sent a text out to some of his friends that he had met at bars and on the strip, asking if they wanted to meet up. Some responded, others didn’t and he gave them the address of his favorite restaurant. They all talked for hours, reminiscing on the good and bad times that had originally brought them together. When they had finished eating, drinking, and talking, Kent took the bill and paid off its balance. 

 

He and Jeff headed home after many teary goodbyes and claps on the back. 

 

Kent unlocked the door to his apartment, and once inside, was pushed up against the wall.

 

“I missed you today,” Swoops said, alternating between pressing light kisses to Kent’s lips and sucking marks onto his neck. “A lot.”

 

“Babe, I just sat next to you for three hours,” Kent bickered.

 

Jeff stopped his assault. “Yeah, but I wasn’t glued to your side. I wasn’t touching you, or holding your hand, or talking to you, or kissing you, or--”

 

“Okay, I get it,” the blond said with a small laugh. “I missed you too.” Kent caught his boyfriend’s lips in a deep kiss, which Jeff eagerly retaliated. 

 

The two worked themselves over to the couch, Kent tripping on a stray shoe, causing him to drop onto the white fabric sofa. He grabbed Swoops by the tie, pulling him down with the weight of his fall. 

 

“So, are we fucking on this couch, or what?” Jeff asked in between kisses.

 

“I fell, Jeffrey.”

 

“You tripped over your own shoe because you’re a slob, Kenneth.” His mouth drifted to the collar of Kent’s dress shirt, and he pecked the skin above the fabric lightly. “Do you want me to?”

 

The blond let out a small huff of air as his boyfriend’s tongue trailed across his collarbone. “Only if you want to.”

 

Jeff pulled away. “Clear cut answer, please. Can’t do anything without a yes or no.”

 

“Whatever you want, man. What do you want?” Kent asked as Swoops straddled his hips. 

 

“I’m always in the mood for you,” he said with a smirk. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing, just thinking.” The blond tried to sit up, but was blocked by the weight on top of him. “Maybe we can go at it later?”

 

“Of course,” Jeff replied. “What are you thinking about?”

 

“I don’t think you want to know.”

 

“I do, though. Why else would I have asked?” Swoops moved off of Kent, sitting next to him instead. “Can’t argue with me there, babe.”

 

“Fine,” Kent said with a sigh. “Would you still love me even if we didn’t have sex?”

 

“Of  _ course _ —“

 

“No, Jeff, really think about it.”

 

“My answer is the same,” Jeff replied almost instantaneously. “What brought this up?” He ruffled Kent’s hair, eliciting a soft, relaxed exhale. 

 

“I don’t know, just whenever I feel like I’m not, I don’t know,  _ worthy _ of your love or presence, I entice you to fuck me. I don’t know. Just a thought. Sorry — I should be quiet. I’m sorry.”

 

“Kens,” Jeff started, then took a deep breath. “Don’t be sorry. I love hearing about your thoughts. Helps me understand you better. Second, uh, we’re almost  _ always  _ having sex. Does that mean you feel like that every time?”

 

“Not every time, just mainly whenever I start things.”

 

“So you’re saying that your self-worth is determined by sex?” Swoops asked.

 

“Sex and hockey. That’s about it, honestly,” Kent said with conviction. “I mean, that’s all I have going for me. That’s all I’ve  _ ever  _ had going for me.”

 

Jeff rolled his eyes and stretched his back. “Dude, you can’t put your self worth in things you’re not bad at. That’s not how it works.”

 

“I’m sorry, what?” Kent hissed. “Want to try and rephrase that, or leave it there?”

 

“What did I do? I was just--”

 

“ _ What did I do? _ ” the blond started in a horrible interpretation of his boyfriend’s accent. “Fucking forget it.” He got up and walked towards his bedroom. “Try and process exactly what was said, man. You’re not dumb, I believe in you, you can figure it out.”

 

“Just tell me!”

 

Kent ignored him and slammed the door as he walked through. 

 

Jeff got up and knocked on the door mere seconds after it was slammed. “You only have a day and a couple hours left here. Do you really want to spend it angry?” When there was no response, he jiggled the knob, sighing when it didn’t turn. “Please, just talk to me. Kent.”

 

Swoops could hear the light padding of feet behind the locked door, but it did not open. With pain evident in his voice, he let out an almost silent “Kent, please. I don’t want you leaving while you’re mad at me.” The noises in the room stopped. “I’m sorry. What I meant by that was that you can’t base your self-worth off of things, things that really shouldn’t matter in the scope of self. You’re amazing at hockey. You’re the best at sex. That’s not what self worth is, alright?”

 

The door was opened, revealing a teary eyed Kent leaning up against the doorframe. “Don’t come in, just keep talking.”

 

“Self worth is more of the sum of all of the things that shape your personality, like your kindness, or your loyalty. Not how good you are at sex or hockey.”

 

“I don’t think you get it, though,” Kent said with a sigh.

 

“You’re not wrong. I don’t get it, so please elaborate.”

 

“You don’t want me to do that,” Kent started, “that’s a floodgate that shouldn’t be opened.” 

 

“Baby, you don’t have to, but if you want to let me in,” Jeff moved closer to Kent, stroking the blond’s face with the back of his hand, “please do. I want to listen, I want to help you, but I won’t force you.”

 

“What are you trying to do, man?”

 

“I’m just trying to help--”

 

“I’m sorry.” Kent walked towards his bed and flopped down face-first. 

 

Jeff stayed at the door, unsure if he was allowed to come in. “For what? I’m the one pushing you.”

 

“I don’t know. I just...” the blond trailed off, using his concentration on stifling sobs. “I don’t know.”

 

“Can I come in?” Jeff asked, entering when Kent nodded and gave a  _ yea  _ into the mattress. It dipped as new weight was added to it. “I wish you didn’t feel like this.”

 

Kent didn’t lift his head up, just shrugged as his face stayed buried in the bed. “It’s fine.” His words were muffled by the fabric beneath him. Swoops stroked his hair softly, and the touch was almost too much for Kent, because he was emotional, and--

 

“Will you lay with me?”

 

“Sure.” The two adjusted themselves so that they were side by side, Kent’s head on Jeff’s chest, and legs intertwined. It wasn’t comfortable, but it made both of them feel safe. “I’m sorry you fell in love with me and not someone fucking normal. Someone without all this shit going on in their head would be a lot better for you than I am.” Kent’s head moved as Jeff took a shaky deep breath. “What?”

 

“I’m trying not to let you know that I’m crying, eh? But I am crying, because it fucking hurts me that you feel that way about yourself.” He circled his arms around Kent. “There is no one else that I want more than you. I promise.”

 

“Even Oprah?” Kent asked coyly.

 

“A guy has  _ one  _ sex dream about Oprah when he’s fifteen, and he never lives it down. Fuck you, Parson. Can’t tell you anything.”

 

Kent was laughing wildly, burning off the stress and shrouding his sadness in joy. Jeff admired the wrinkles next to his eyes, and how his irises seemed to even change color as the haze of doubt faded away. 

 

“I love you,” Jeff said quietly, with no lift after it. He was serious -- something that Kent wasn’t used to.

 

“I love you too, man? I thought that we’ve been through this.”

 

“Kens, Kens, Kens...” Jeff trailed off, brushing fingertips over his boyfriend’s exposed stomach. “I don’t think that I can explain how much I love you. I can try, but it wouldn’t be enough, because, I just,” he took a deep breath, “I just love you so much. You know when you score the game winner in OT? You do that a lot. That feeling is what I get when I see you. I can’t even put into words what it feels like when you touch me. Don’t even get me started on kissing you. But it’s not just like, actions, eh? It’s being around you. I don’t know.”

 

“What brought this on?” Kent’s face was red, and he felt weird sensations in his chest. He’d felt the feeling before, but never this intense.

 

“Just, you’re so hard on yourself, and you act like I don’t love you for who you are, but I do. I love you now, I’ll love you tomorrow, next week, next year, as long as you let me. You said before that you were sorry that I fell in love with you. Well, I’m not sorry that I did. I’m so fucking happy that I fell in love with you, and I know that we haven’t been dating for that long, but, fuck, I love you.”

 

“I love you too. So much, Jeff.”

 

“I-I have something for you.” They detangled themselves, and Jeff got up and opened one of the drawers in the tall chest. “Don’t worry, it’s not what you think it is.”

 

“That’s a ring box. It is what I think it is. Babe, I love you, but I’m not ready to get engaged, and we’ve talked about this. If you ask, I’m going to say no.”

 

“I’m not asking you to marry me,” Jeff said as he walked back over to the bed. Instead of kneeling like Kent thought he would, he sat down on the mattress, making the springs creak. “This isn’t an engagement ring, dude. It’s a promise ring. It’s me promising to you that I’m still going to love you when you’re 3000 miles away, or when we’re facing off against each other.” He opened the box, revealing a simple silver band.

 

“What does it say on the inside?” Kent asked.

 

“It’s a half of a heart, because the truth is that,” he sighed, “you’re my other half.”

 

“This is some middle schooler who watched a rom-com for the first time kind of bullshit and you know it, Troy.” 

 

Swoops rolled his eyes. “It’s not bullshit. You don’t even have to wear it if you don’t want to. Keep it in your underwear drawer, whatever, I don’t care. I just want you to have something that shows you that I love you.”

 

“Alright,” Kent said with a giggle. “You’re such a sap.”

 

“Yeah. I am.”

 

**_*-*-*_ **

 

Kent’s last day in Vegas was spent with the Aces. Scrappy and Swoops had planned a going away party at one of the local escape rooms, something that the team had done as a bonding exercise once. The outcome was not a success, but it was enjoyable by everyone there. 

 

Since it was the team’s second time doing an escape room, Scraps chose a different theme, the Zombie room. This room was a little scarier, with an actor dressed like the undead, face made up gray and green, with fake blood adorning the corners of his mouth. He was on a chain, which elongated every ten minutes, and every so often, he would scream.

 

Kent hated being jumpscared. The zombie made freaky noises at random, which caused some of the more skittish players, Kent included, to hide behind anyone they could find. For the blond, that was Jeff, who didn’t mind, just laughed when he was used as a shield. It gave Kent an excuse to discreetly feel up his boyfriend’s ass, so he didn’t complain much. 

 

There were 11 puzzles that needed to be solved to escape. 

 

The Aces could firmly solve six. They probably would’ve completed the room, but Kent was too scared of the zombie lashing out at him to help, and Jeff was preoccupied with being a meat shield. They laughed about it later when they went out for drinks, how something that children could complete was unsolvable by twenty adults. 

 

The whole day was bittersweet. Kent knew that the Aces loved him, but he also knew that it was situational. Most of them were huge homophobes, so if they found out about Kent or Swoops, they’d be shunned and hated. Kent wouldn’t miss that, but he would miss the good times, like the time Hammy fell off of the diving board prematurely, causing a flop of epic proportions, and a red mark on his chest for almost a week. Like the time that Carly laughed so hard while drinking that Vodka came out of his nose (he was fine, somehow), or the time that Rex ate a pepper so hot that he cried and his face looked as red as a tomato.

 

With the good memories also came bad ones, like the entire night of Jack and Eric’s coming out on national television. The homophobic comments seemed unending the entire time they were at the bar. Gladly, once Kent and Jeff returned home, the night was quiet -- the next day was a different story.

 

**_*-*-*_ **

 

Neither Kent nor Jeff slept much the night before Kent was to leave. They huddled as close to one another’s side as they could, which was extremely warm, but gratifying.

 

He left at 9 in the morning. The car had been packed the night before, full of moving boxes of clothes, dishware, and personal belongings that felt too important to meet the trash. The furniture all stayed in the apartment, because it had come that way. Kent’s new place was pre-furnished also. 

 

Jeff and Kent refused to let go of each other for almost ten minutes, stuck in a hug, both thinking  _ please, please don’t go,  _ but it was inevitable, so the blond got in his car and drove away, trying his hardest not to look back _. _ When he glanced in his rear-view mirror, Jeff was sitting on the curb in front of the complex, head in his hands. Kent sped up until his boyfriend was out of sight, reaching the on ramp to interstate 50 quickly.

 

Kent had been through Arizona many times, either for games against the Coyotes, or on roadies to Texas. The upper panhandle of the state was relatively boring. Once he crossed into Utah, he stopped at a rest area complex, one mainly used by truckers, to use the restroom and get a sandwich and some shitty coffee. The smell of gasoline was welcome as he refilled his car. 

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: I’m thinking of U(tah) _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: I will Nev(ada)er let you go _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: far fetched. I know, I’ll try again _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: i tried really hard but I got nothing sorry babe. I LOVE(as Vegas) you _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: doesn’t make sense but thanks for trying ::)))) love you too _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: don’t forget to take rests and actually stop to sleep _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: you know me too well _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: i’ll do my best _

 

Kent did sleep, but only once he crossed into Nebraska at 10pm local time. He booked a room in a small motel called the Roadway in a town called Willow Island, which he thought was weird, because there were no willow trees, and the area was completely landlocked. For the price, the lodging was probably great, but Kent could not sleep. He was too cold, even when he had piled blankets on top of himself -- the coldness came from not having someone in the bed next to him. He sent some hearts to Jeff, who didn’t reply before he had forced himself to drift off. 

 

He woke up the next morning to his alarm, nerves firing twinges of pain because of the box springs. The early morning sun shone through the window as the chorus to Kesha’s  _ Tik Tok  _ played softly. He was still cold, and his eyes were definitely puffy and tired, but he felt more rested than when he had gone to sleep.

 

Sitting on the cooling bed after a hot shower, Kent planned out the next leg of his drive. He’d stop for food and bathrooms whenever they were needed, but he would only sleep when he hit Cleveland, Ohio. The drive was about fifteen hours long, most likely closer to seventeen with all of the necessary stops, but if he wanted to be rested before Monday’s practice, it had to be done. 

 

He grabbed a quick breakfast in the lobby, gave back the keys, and hit the road.

 

Nebraska was beautiful. There were a lot of farms, bales of hay, and cows, but the grass was a vivid, alive green — something never seen in Las Vegas. At a stoplight on a freeway, Kent snapped a picture of a particularly picturesque farm, and texted it to Jeff, who immediately replied with  _ :)). _

 

Kent then got a call from him, which he picked up on the second ring. 

 

_ “Hey baby. How’s it going?”  _ Jeff sounded tired, which was understandable, as the Aces had morning practices on Saturdays, if they didn’t have a game. 

 

“Good, good. You?”

 

He sighed. “I miss you a lot.”

 

“Me too,” Kent said quietly. “I’ll be okay. How was practice?”

 

“Same as it ever was,” Jeff replied. “Worse without you.”

 

**_*-*-*_ **

 

Ohio came and went, and Kent forgot to stop to sleep, even though he was mentally exhausted. He just wanted to get to his new apartment, and give Kit some space to run around. The road gave him headaches, and he had to stop every few hours for coffee and restroom breaks, but other than that, the rest of the drive was relatively painless. He listened to soft pop music and admired the green scenery, fading from browning, dry cornfields to lush evergreen forests. The Interstate was surrounded by greenery at all times, even when nearing cities. Upstate New York was nice, and as he passed little secluded cabins, he thought about what he would do after he retired. Obviously, he couldn’t play hockey forever. Maybe he and Swoops could buy one and live there, drive into the town on weekends, or whenever friends wanted to hang out, and just be alone together for the rest of their lives. 

 

He dismissed the thought. Thinking about retirement while still playing wasn’t smart. 

 

The sign reading  _ Welcome To Rhode Island // The Ocean State  _ could not have been more welcome. Kent almost cried as he saw it. His road trip was almost over. He would soon be at his apartment, where he could shower and go to bed.

 

Gladly, on a Sunday afternoon, the traffic nearing Providence wasn’t horrible. Churchgoers were already home, it wasn’t time for dinner yet, and there were no big events happening. He made good time from the edge of Massachusetts into the city, past the arena, and to his new apartment complex. He parked in the designated spot, and received his keys from reception. He took one load up, including Kit in her carrier, placing everything in the living room.

 

His new apartment looked similar to his old one. The furnishings were white, the floors were dark wood, there was a TV, and some shag rugs. He hoped that would help settle his cat in their new home.

 

Since Kit was still in her carrier, he left the door open as he went to get more boxes from his car. He was able to empty it out completely with the help of a cart in two loads. Gladly, the elevator worked.

 

Floor 5. The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and Kent started to push the cart. He could barely see over it, so when he saw two figures, he stopped.

 

“Sorry, I can’t see over this thing,” he started. “Can you guys go around me?”

 

“Not enough space for us to squeeze through. Here, I’ll help you pull it through.” Kent recognized the voice, but was unable to pinpoint it. Vaguely Canadian, deep-ish, but not as deep as Scrappy’s, and with a slight lift at the end of it. The cart moved a few feet before Kent heard him again. “Here, why don’t I just help you move this to your apartment — it’s pretty heavy. What number are you?”

 

“I can get it, man, but thanks.” Kent peeked around the side of the cart, trying to put a face to the voice. “Shit, Jack?”

 

Jack moved slightly so he could see past the metal and boxes. “Oh. Hey, Kenny.”

 

Their semi-awkward staring competition was broken by the opening and light shutting of a door. “Jack, honey, the door to 509 is open, should I shut it?”

 

“Uh, I don’t know,” Jack responded to the man Kent couldn’t see. “Is that your apartment?”

 

“Yeah,” Kent responded. “Please leave it open,” he said, loudly enough to be heard down the hallway. 

 

“Who is that?” The new voice was slightly chirpy, southern, but soft. Kent assumed it was Jack’s boyfriend, the short one he had kissed on live television after he had won the Cup. 

 

“Just someone, I’m helping with his luggage. I’ll be done in a second.” Jack started to drag the cart, forcing Kent to push it. “509?” 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Oh, lord, is that Kent Parson?” Kent turned around to face the man standing in front of 508. “What are the  _ odds  _ that he would move in  _ right next to you,  _ Jack? Nice to see you again!” 

 

“Oh, uh, hey, Eric. How are you?” Kent continued to push the cart, turning slightly to get it through his open doorway. He had met Jack’s boyfriend at that one Kegster, and the three of them had gone to a nice, chivalrous dinner when the Aces had played the Falconers in January. 

 

Jack ran into a wall and cursed lightly in French. “I didn’t know, Bits.”

 

“I didn’t know either, to be fair,” chimed Kent. 

 

“Just finish up helping him so we can go to dinner, sweetheart.”

 

Once the cart cleared the door, Jack backpedaled out. “See you tomorrow, eh?”

 

“Yeah,” Kent groaned. The prospect of seeing Jack again wasn’t what he was annoyed at, but rather at the fact that he was exhausted and still had a lot to do. He closed the door after he saw Jack take Bitty’s hand.

 

He unloaded the boxes and suitcases from the cart, preparing to take it back to the lobby because it wasn’t his. After he did that, he set up the litter box and let Kit out of her carrier. She stalked around the open space of the living room cautiously, still uncertain of whether to trust her new surroundings or not. 

 

He started with the top box, which turned out to be just old Aces shirts, tanks, and jerseys that he had been allowed to keep. He set it aside to be hung up later. The next was more shirts, flannels. He box after that was jeans, then leggings, then underwear, then shorts, hoodies, hats, and finally, clothes that he had stolen from Jeff. 

 

He picked out some old, ratty but comfortable clothes to use as pyjamas, and took them to his new bathroom. It was relatively spacious, filled with a dual sink, jacuzzi tub, and walk in shower. Kent had money, and his luxury was very important to him.

 

For the first time in days, he stepped under a stream of hot, nicely pressured water. He fiddled with the settings on the shower head as he got clean, experimenting with the different options. Two would work for massaging, he concluded. The rest were just nice and relaxing.

 

He got out of the shower feeling like jello, exhausted from his long drive. Kent hadn’t eaten, but he had no food in the house yet, and was too tired to go out and get any. He’d eat breakfast in the morning. Gladly, he had sprayed the mattress with his special linen disinfectant and put his sheets on earlier, so he could just plug his phone in, and collapse. He was ready to fall asleep, but he remembered that he had never let Jeff know that he had made it to Providence, so he opened his messages to send a quick text, noticing that he had a few unread.

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: did u make it?????? _

 

That was delivered three hours prior, so Kent responded hastily.

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: I made it sorry I didn’t tell you. Going to bed now, call u in the morning. I love you! _

 

There was another unread text, this time from Jack.

 

_ Text from JACK ZIMMERMANN: Did you get the apartment next to mine on purpose? _

 

Kent had received that one right after his meeting with Jack.

 

_ Text to JACK ZIMMERMANN: no ofc not _

 

He set his alarm and put his phone on his nightstand. He thought that he would fall asleep immediately, but he was still cold, even with Kit right next to him. Kent knew that it was just because he missed Jeff, but it didn’t make his sadness any more bearable. Knowing that Jeff loved him didn’t ease the fact that he wasn’t with Kent in Providence. 

 

**_*-*-*_ **

 

He did eventually fall asleep, but he felt less rested than he had in months. His body ached from being trapped in a car for three days, and his head was foggy with exhaustion. He had an hour and a half to eat breakfast, get ready, and drive over to the rink.

 

He had to stop for a doughnut and coffee on the way, since he had no food in his new apartment. He decided that he would remedy that after practice -- there was a grocery store on the way back. 

 

The Falconers’ practice rink was almost two times bigger than the Aces’. It was part of a complex with a gym, track, pool, and more, but Kent was still astonished by the sheer amount of bleachers, and how many people were in them. Kent could feel eyes trained on him. According to Marty, this amount of people was unusual, especially for August. He didn’t want to think about the reason that they were there, because he had a feeling that it had to do with the trade. 

 

The crowd cheered as Jack came out of the locker room. He was definitely the fan favorite -- he made the shot in overtime to win the Stanley Cup two years prior -- it made sense for them to love him, even though he was not their captain. It would have been endearing if Kent was in a normal mental state. 

 

Kent thought that his state during the kegster was bad, but playing hockey  _ with  _ Jack for the first time in almost eight years was different. It reminded him of what they once were. It was absolutely horrible. Gladly, the two were not placed on the same line, at least not in the beginning. Kent was on the second line, Jack was on the first. The blond had expected to make the third line, but second was just as good. The Falconers had lost the previous veteran on that line, so it made sense for Kent to be placed there.

 

Practice the first day was pretty standard. They ran drills, scrimmaged, and did a shootout run through for the goalies. Kent talked to Marty once, and didn’t speak unless he was calling out for a pass. Although he was relatively good at idle conversation, he didn’t feel like he fit in enough with this group to try and add something to their discussions, which included: the ethics of human cloning, pie flavors, and what type of stick tape made one look “like a total fucking noob.” The consensus on the last argument was that if someone’s tape matched the color of their socks, they probably had spent a long time in the minor league. Kent had not paid enough attention to the rest of the discussion to know  _ why _ having matching tape and socks was so horrible, so he just let it go. 

 

To be completely fair to his new coaches, the trade was a great idea. Kent was already excelling in a way he never had with the Aces. The Falconers had a lot of strong scorers, and Kent was good at assisting, so it seemed to work well. He knew that as he got more comfortable with the people on his new team, he could do even better, but that would require a lot of work and actual socialization.

 

If he couldn’t be friendly with them, he would just do what he knew how to, which was practice. He played hockey like he always did, and took some hard checks from the teammates that were skeptical about his trade. Kent would say that he did well, but know in his heart that he had to do better.

 

After a quick shower, he went out to face the media. Coach Marceau and Georgia were already standing in front of cameras, looking poised even as question after question was shot at them. This kind of media blitz always happened after a trade -- predictions for a team’s Cup outcome would change completely based on one new player. Kent was waved over, and a microphone was immediately shoved in his face. Questions about his move, team chemistry, and thoughts about the outlook of the season were asked and answered, but after only a few minutes, Georgia forced the cameramen and reporters back out. 

 

“How much media training have you had?” Georgia asked once they were alone. “Most don’t handle that as well as you did.”

 

“I haven’t had much training,” Kent started. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack carrying a gym bag, head down.  He raised his voice. “I just don’t feel any emotion anymore.” Why he did that, Kent didn't know. It was probably a subconscious display of dominance, forcing Jack to think that he didn’t matter to Kent anymore, which was not true. He mattered a lot — maybe too much. 

 

When Jack heard, he looked over for a few seconds, but recovered quickly and hurried out the door. 

 

Kent stocked up on groceries and other home essentials and went back to his new apartment, where Kit was waiting next to the door.

 

“Hey, girl,” he whispered, petting her with the hand unoccupied by groceries. “Give me a few and I’ll come make over you.” Kent placed the bags on the counter in the kitchen and opened his fridge. It smelled like the plasticy smell that often accompanied new appliances, so he grabbed the box of baking soda that he had bought, opened it, and stuck it in the back of the fridge. He didn’t know why it worked, but his mom had always done it to get rid of odors and keep food fresher. He had been doing it ever since he lived on his own, mostly subconsciously. 

 

Kit’s complaining pulled him out of his trance, and he unpacked the groceries into the fridge, freezer, and pantry. He put all of the plastic bags in one, washed his hands, and went over to the couch, calling for Kit as he walked. She jumped onto his lap as soon as he sat down. 

 

He took out his phone to call Jeff and noticed that he had a text from Jack.

 

_ Text from JACK ZIMMERMANN: hey some of the guys are going out tonight do you want to come _

 

Kent thought for a moment, but settled on being too tired.

 

_ Text to JACK ZIMMERMANN: i’m too tired, long drive. Maybe next time? _

 

_ Text from JACK ZIMMERMANN: okay have a good night _

 

He thought that “have a good night” was weird, given that it was only 4 in the afternoon, but he disregarded it in favor of calling Jeff, who picked up on the third ring. 

 

_ “Kent! Hey! How are you? How was practice?”  _ Jeff asked in a rapid-fire inquisition. 

 

“Dude, slow down. I’m alright, how are you?” 

 

_ “I’m good, but how are you, actually? I know that you just say you’re okay because it’s easier, but you can be real with me.” _

 

“Get out of psychologist mode and into boyfriend mode,” Kent scoffed. “I’m actually doing okay, I promise. Now, how has your day been?”

 

_ “Good, good. Early practice today, which sucked ass. It’s weird without you, not going to lie.” _

 

“Babe, don’t.”

 

_ “I’m trying to be honest.” _

 

“Ugh, fine.” Kent rolled his eyes, and from Jeff’s snicker, it was probably evident in his tone as well. “I miss you a lot.” That was true. It was weird being without Jeff, seeing as the two had spent the better part of seven years glued to each other’s sides. Three of those years had been spent messing around together, until they fell into a real relationship, with kissing, and telling each other how they felt. The fact that the departure was hard for Kent made sense -- they were best friends.

 

_ “Don’t remind me of how much I miss you, too. It just hurts, honestly -- I just wish you were here.”  _

 

“Nothing we can do about it now, Swoopsie. You know I love you, I know you love me, but we just have to be in love from three thousand miles away. It’ll be okay.”

 

Kent could hear the deep breath and long exhale Jeff took.  _ “I know that we’ll be okay, this just isn’t ideal. I want to have you near me.” _

 

“November, babe. That’s only, like, five months? I don’t know. If we get a long weekend, I’ll fly down, alright? Now, on a lighter note, how has the rest of your day been?”

 

_ “Pretty good, going to hang out with the guys tonight.” _

 

Kent laughed. “Have fun with that.”

 

_ “What, you’re a Falconer for a day, and suddenly you don’t love the Aces anymore? I feel betrayed.” _

 

“You know what I mean,” he said with a giggle.

 

_ “I love you. So much.” _

 

“I love you too. So, so much.”

 

They both remained quiet for what was only a minute, but seemed like an eternity, until Jeff spoke again.  _ “Hey, weird question. Do you still have the ring?” _

 

“‘Course I do. I’ve been wearing it on a chain around my neck.”

 

_ “That makes me so happy, you cannot understand.” _

 

“It actually hangs right over my heart.”

 

_ “Babe, stop,”  _ Swoops said exasperatedly.  _ “You’re going to make me cry.” _

 

Kit chirped as Kent neglected to pet her, being too busy talking with Jeff. “That’s the point, right? Also, the Princess says hi.”

 

_ “Mm, tell her hi from me, and that I love her and her daddy.” _

 

“I will, as long as you promise me that you never refer to me as ‘daddy’ again.”

 

_ “Deal.” _

 

**_*-*-*_ **

 

Most days were like the first one. Practices were okay, Kent was able to avoid Jack, and he and Jeff would talk for hours. 

 

Other days were not so simple. 

 

_ Text from JACK ZIMMERMANN: we’re going to the bar, coming with? _

 

_ Text to JACK ZIMMERMANN: already have plans rip _

 

_ Text from JACK ZIMMERMANN: you always say that _

 

_ Text to JACK ZIMMERMANN: ... _

 

_ Text from JACK ZIMMERMANN: I’m sorry.  _

 

Kent didn’t respond. 

 

Less than three minutes later, a very angry looking jack was standing at his door, arms crossed, shoulders back in a defensive stance. Kent meandered over, in no rush to get to the door. “Kenny,” he said, voice barely a whisper. His eyes were wide in surprise or fear -- Kent couldn't tell which.

 

Kent sighed. “What do you want?”

 

“I offended you, I realize that, and I’m sorry, but, I just —“ Jack took a deep breath. “Why won’t you do anything with the team? It’s been  _ months _ , okay? You have not done anything with us. You’re a part of this team now. You should act like it.”

 

“Come on, Jack,” Kent started exasperatedly. “I’m not trying to blow off the team, I just — I don’t know. I’m busy?”

 

“With what? With who? You don’t know anyone up here!” Jack’s voice was raised, which made Kent do the same. 

 

“I know people!”

 

“Who?” Jack shouted. 

 

Kent couldn’t respond, so he kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t ready to tell Jack that he had a boyfriend, even though he knew the reaction would only be positive. Kent wasn’t ready for that level of trust again.  Jeff also wasn’t the only reason Kent avoided the Falconers — he just genuinely didn’t like a few of them, and hanging out with Jack was more trouble than it was worth. 

 

“Who?” Jack asked again, more quietly. “Are you seeing someone? Because that’s great, but they shouldn’t be keeping you away from your team all of the time.”

 

“You should probably go.”

 

“But—“

 

“But you should probably go.”

 

So Jack did.

 

Kent cried for an hour. He didn’t know why he started, but when it stopped, he felt empty. 

 

*-*-*

 

Days continued in a similar fashion. Kent would bail on plans, Jack would get mad, and they would yell at each other, over the same thing time after time, but obviously, Kent’s absence at team events didn’t make much of a difference — the Falconers were 18-3 by the end of October. Kent’s new coaches were proud of him, but more proud of Jack. The chemistry they had had in juniors had disappeared in all other areas except for on the ice, but during practice and games, they were on fire. Jack was always right where Kent needed him to be for a perfect pass, or in the perfect place for a lead to a slapshot. 

 

That was the only thing Kent was enjoying about Providence. He drank alone at sketchy bars, but didn’t feel like getting to know other lonely drinkers like he had done in Vegas. He felt less alone when Jeff called, but they didn’t have too much time to talk, with practice schedules, games, and the time difference between them.

 

Kent just wanted to be somewhere where he was loved. He wanted to be with Jeff. 

 

*-*-*

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: hey will you come down for thanksgiving _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: i will check rn _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: we have a game the day before and the day after idk how i could swing that _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: where are the games _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: Sens on the 21 and the Wild on the 23 _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: do you guys not have games?????? _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: we have the 20 and 24 so  _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: I’ll be there _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: in Ottawa _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: we can drive over to my parents hose in north bay and you can meet them _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: house* _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: I would rather go to their hose actually so _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: is that okay? If it is i’m gonna book tickets _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: parents is a big step _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: whatever i want to. Book em. _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: wait Canadian thanksgiving is in October??!?!??! _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: they’ll fix us stupid Americans food _

 

_ Text to SWOOPSTER: okay I love you  _

 

_ Text from SWOOPSTER: I love you too _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again, y'all! I am so sorry that it's been so long!!!! I was in Haiti for a while, so no cell service to update! This chapter is pretty meaty but not much happens. I'm working on faster updating -- I swear. Chapter 4 should not be that far away, but 3 was just kind of hard to write because I barely outlined it at all. Here's some Q's and A's that I asked myself a lot along the way.
> 
> Q: y did u do this  
> A: plotline, yo. in my outline for this fic, i have a bullet point that legit just says: "predictable plotline lets go boyzzzz." also, i like pain. esp when it gets resolved.
> 
> Q: did you seriously place Kent's apartment right next to Jack's?????  
> A: my fic my rules? predictability can be good.
> 
> Q: what's Jack's problem???  
> A: he and Kent don't get along???? he is trying hard to be nice. Kent's the one blowing him off. don't worry -- I am doing that for a reason.
> 
> Q: JEFF.  
> A: yeah. I know. chapters 3 and 4 are rough for him, but don't worry -- everything works out for him!
> 
> Q: where did kent's mental illness go??????  
> A: his actions, his words, his everything. I just didn't write it into this chapter as much as i had previously -- i had a rough time with life and didn't want to put myself in a horrid headspace to write mr sad boy. don't worry, it's not magically solved. chapter 4 is going to involve a lot of internal conflict, don't worry!
> 
> Q: kent??? using sex as a coping mechanism for his self worth issues?????  
> A: it's more likely than you think. 
> 
>  
> 
> oK ANYWAYS. as always, kudos = real good! comments on how to improve or what you liked, idk, tell me about your day?? sending me words = YES! comments are the goat.
> 
> HAVE A GREAT DAY/WEEK/MONTH/YEAR!

**Author's Note:**

> A playlist will be made over on< a href=”https://8tracks.com/kennyparse” > my 8tracks < /a > ! Thank you guys for reading! As always, leave kudos and comments if you liked it, and comments if there's something I can do better! Y'all are awesome!


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